Maybe this time we’ll win. We make the promises, we pump up the expectations and we pass the in winter only Mallomars at the supermarket.
“When a child loves you for a long time, not just to play with but REALLY loves you, you become Real. Does it hurt?” Asked the Rabbit. “Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.
A favorite quote from a most favorite children’s book, The Velveteen Rabbit or (How Toys Become Real) by Margery Williams.
So once again we try to brush away the flies in our picnic of life. Sadness only takes away riches. We know for certain laughter, especially when it involves the belly adds life to your years. Norman Lear, who is still going strong at 95 years young, believes as he was moving on up to the East Side with Maude, Archie and Sandford’s son that the “Good Times” even if it’s “One Day at a Time,” added years to your life.
I know run on sentence counters, relax that is it.
This year while reading the New York Times obits (MYOB) I came across one that shouted out loud.
Dr. Shigeaki Hinohara a Japanese physician was listed. He lived until 105. He cautioned against gluttony and early retirement and vigorously championed annual medical checkups, climbing stairs regularly and just having fun.
So as we -At A Glance- our 20chai weekly appointment book let’s replace “wishful drinking” with “wishful thinking.” Oh and by the way, Yes hello American Express. That charge was a real purchase. Yes, I bought the whole store. Uh huh, yep the whole store. It’s the store where I bought the Basket, the one I put all my eggs in. Eight yes, eight of them hatched. Alevei-
Dear Prudence, won’t you come out and play and greet the brand new day. Who knows how long I’ve loved you, you know I love you still, will I wait a lonely lifetime, if you want me to I will.
I think I’m gonna be sad, I think it’s today. The girl that’s driving me mad is going away.
Cause one day you’ll look to see I’ve gone but tomorrow may rain so I’ll follow the sun – So as I see it you gotta pay your dues if you wanna sing the blues cause – there is music they tell me in sweet fragrant meadows of dawn and dew, there is love all around but I never heard it playing no I never heard it at all till there was you. I wanna hold your hand as we cross Abbey Road, so don’t let me down-love me do. Please don’t twist and shout because she says she loves you and you know that can’t be bad. Anytime at all, all you got to do is call and I’ll be there. Cause when I’m home, everything seems to be right, when I’m home feeling you holding me tight. And if you want some fun take Ob-la-do-bla-da – Life goes on!
Chapter One “In the Land of VPL’s.” It all began while we waited for a parking spot at the Boy’s Farmers Market (which is the $1.00 store for fruits and veggies). It’s close by, right on Military Trail – a veritable bargain and if I tell you —fresh! So we sit and painstakingly wait until someone slowly wheels the stocked shopping cart back to their car, searches for their keys, loads the car, chases after the jar of herring in cream sauce that rolled away and finally removes the sun visor from the dashboard. The name of the place could be changed from The Boys to the Men. Like in forever. And so the brigade of visible panty lines came about. Spandex leggings have replaced “dungarees”- aka Jeans. With their swimming aerobic class over, a quick shower at the gym, the ladies are off to beat the crowd and get a coveted spot. Hey today the strawberry containers are two for the price of one. Could you plotz? They can serve them next to the bridge mix (chocolate and nuts) at the canasta game they are hosting later. Ok, back to the leggings. Spandex, helancas and stretch pants you’re killing us visually. You can get them cheap at the flea market on Sample Rd. The sign says “one size fits nobody over the age of 25.” Cheaper by the dozen if you like the color maroon. So we have returned, one year older, age appropriate activities have befallen us. With a little Mazel, coupled with a work out routine for balancing, we’ll come back next week, wait for a place to park, watch the brigade and who knows the blueberries could be two for the price of…
As the horses lined up at the gate they offered resistance being positioned into place. They fussed and backed out several times. The signal went off and it was showtime. All with the same goal, on unfamiliar turf, their eye on gaining speed at the homestretch. The odds 3-to 1. Winner takes all. Within the time allotted to get to the finish line they kept neck in neck throughout. They never wavered in their goal, their determination inbred. The race was tight, they plodded ahead at their own speed, never loosing sight of one another. Adages galore- like mother, like daughter, family is family, an inseparable bond taking a well needed break. A hiatus to regroup and redefine how to permanently cement the umbilical cord, the life line. The animalistic instinct kicked in through scent and sound as they picked up speed finishing the race. A trifecta was called as a win-win They collected the trophy of family and went home. This time they went to the florist for flowers.